Chapter 85: The Vision Unbidden [2]

Chapter 85

Sigrid’s consciousness drifted inside a cold, emotionless void—a familiar, endless expanse of absolute shadow that she had hoped never to visit again. Her eyes scrunched in deep annoyance as a distinct, familiar childlike voice echoed through the dark, its light, mocking laughter ringing in her mind before the figure addressed her. "Sigrid, Sigrid, Sigrid," the voice chimed.

Bound within the featureless space, Sigrid was entirely unable to move her limbs, forced instead to fix her gaze upon the divine entity. The God sat floating upside down with legs crossed, suspended in midair as he stared at her with an unsettling, wide-eyed grin. ℯℯ𝘭.𝘤ℴ𝘮

Sigrid held back a sneer, her tone laced with biting irritation despite her paralysis. "What is it that you want from me now? Do not humor me. Why have you pulled my mind into this place so abruptly?"

The God tilted his head, his ethereal form swaying gently in the abyss. "I had no choice in the matter, my dear."

Sigrid pressed further, her thoughts sharp and demanding. "Why? And why did my Sight activate without my consent the moment I locked eyes with Soren?"

The entity remained silent for a brief moment, the mocking smile lingering upon his face before he finally offered an answer. "It activated because he unintentionally allowed you entry, Sigrid. You had mastered the art of calling upon your Sight whenever you wished to peer into the secrets of others. However, in that fleeting second, Soren unconsciously left the gateway to his inner mind unlocked. Your power simply reacted to the opening."

Sigrid’s crimson eyes widened within the dark expanse. "That is... impossible."

The God chuckled, his voice dropping into a tone of faux concern. "And such a reckless interaction can be extraordinarily dangerous. Forcefully dragging one’s soul into the inner depths of another can inflict irreparable damage—you risk losing your very soul to the void. Thats why I summoned you."

Sigrid frowned, resisting the weight pressing against her mind. "If you are an omnipotent deity who bestowed this Sight upon me, why am I unable to read Soren cleanly? Why is a mortal man capable of disrupting it?"

The God let out a melodic, mocking sigh. "I am indeed omnipotent, but you are merely a fragile human wielding a divine artifact. The efficiency of the Gift depends entirely upon the mortal vessel using it. Furthermore, Soren’s subconscious resistance has disrupted your internal balance. Your firm hold on your power has been severed for the time being."

The divine entity floated closer, his upside-down face lingering mere inches from hers. "If you require someone to blame for this predicament, look no further than the man you chose as your husband. You signed your own death warrant by binding yourself to Duke Aethermor—a man who will undoubtedly guide you straight toward your ultimate ruin."

Sigrid’s jaw tightened. "What do you mean by that?"

The God merely smirked, his form beginning to dissolve into mist. "I am forbidden from revealing the future so plainly, Duchess. I prefer to watch your little surprises unfold on their own. Farewell, Sigrid Thea Valemont... ah, forgive me, I meant Sigrid Thea Aethermor."

With a sudden, violent jolt, the pitch-black void shattered, and Sigrid’s consciousness was dragged back to the physical realm. Her eyelids fluttered open, her crimson eyes widening as she found herself lying upon the grand bed inside the master chambers of the Northern Fortress. Soren was hovering over her, his dark blue eyes filled with an intense, uncharacteristic panic as he searched her face.

Sigrid let out a slow breath, a faint, dark smirk touching the corners of her lips as the God’s warning echoed in her mind. As if I do not already know the dangers of binding myself to the Northern Warlord, she thought dryly.

Turning her head slightly, Sigrid noticed three ducal physicians standing nervously at the foot of the bed, their medical satchels open. "I am perfectly fine, my lord," Sigrid murmured softly, her voice steady despite her lingering fatigue.

Soren immediately straightened his posture, turning a cold, unyielding glare toward the medical staff. "Leave us," he ordered, his baritone voice echoing with absolute authority.

One of the elder physicians took a hesitant step forward, wringing his hands nervously. "But Her Grace has only just regained consciousness, Your Grace! We must perform a thorough examination—"

Soren’s eyes narrowed into dangerous slits. "I shall not repeat myself. Out."

The physicians bowed frantically, gathering their tools in haste before practically fleeing the chamber and pulling the thick oak doors shut behind them. Once they were left in complete solitude, Soren turned his focus back to Sigrid, his gaze softening slightly as he sat upon the edge of the mattress. "Are you truly unharmed? What came over you so suddenly?"

Sigrid remained quiet for a long moment, carefully organizing her thoughts before offering a calm response. "It is difficult to explain, Soren. My body simply gave way for a brief moment."

Soren studied her face, searching for any sign of deception, but eventually let out a deep, defeated sigh. He stood to his full height, adjusting his dark velvet coat. "Very well. Do not force yourself to speak of it now. Rest."

He walked toward the entrance of the chamber, pausing with his hand resting upon the iron handle. "If you require anything at all, do not hesitate to call for me." As he opened the heavy door, Lilith almost tumbled into the room, having been pacing anxiously in the hallway outside.

Soren glanced down at the young maid before looking back toward the bed. "Or direct your requests to your maid." With those final words, the Duke stepped into the corridor, allowing the heavy oak door to click shut behind him.

Lilith rushed to Sigrid’s bedside at once, her face pale with worry as she wrung her apron. "My lady! Are you alright? What happened in the study? The guards said you collapsed without warning!"

Sigrid adjusted herself against the soft pillows, offering her maid a reassuring smile. "Calm yourself, Lilith. I am completely fine. There is no cause for alarm."

Lilith let out a breath of relief, though her eyes remained fixed on her mistress’s subtle expression. "If that is truly the case, my lady... why do you carry such a heavy, dark frown upon your face?"

Sigrid offered no verbal answer, turning her gaze toward the arched window as the evening sky turned into deep shades of purple and black. Her mind lingered on the God’s warnings inside the void, but her thoughts soon drifted further back to her confrontation with Maria in the palace courtyard. Maria had spoken so proudly of becoming the future Queen of Arkovia, and deep within her heart, Sigrid felt a familiar, sharp ache. She could not deny the truth, part of her deeply yearned to wear the crown once more.

Although her former marriage to Prince Ragnar had been filled with cold neglect and silent suffering, the role of Queen itself had provided her with a profound sense of purpose. In those quiet, lonely years, she had found solace in mastering statecraft, managing the imperial budget, studying complex political strategies, and systematically dismantling her enemies from behind the scenes. She had learned the brutal art of governance from Queen Evelyn herself—the very woman who had once taken a young, naive Sigrid under her wing.

Sigrid’s crimson eyes narrowed as a vivid memory resurfaced from her past life. She clearly remembered Queen Evelyn leaning close during one of their private lessons, her voice laced with grave warning as she spoke of the Northern Duke. ’Remember this well, Sigrid,’ Evelyn had warned her. ’The Duke of the North is a ruthless, bloodthirsty monster with no allegiance to the Crown. He is a dark omen upon this realm, and you must avoid crossing his path at all costs.’ Prince Ragnar had repeated those exact same warnings throughout her time in the imperial palace, painting Soren as a heartless beast devoid of humanity.

Sigrid rested her cheek against her palm, staring out into the gathering darkness of the northern sky as a faint, bitter smile touched her lips. They painted you as a monster to keep me fearful, she pondered silently, watching the snow begin to fall gently beyond the glass. Yet here I am, bound to the very beast they feared most... and I intend to use his strength to claim everything they sought to keep from me but still wondering what you did to garner such hatred my lord.